Breathing
by PaperBalloonsx3
Summary: -Creek- I thought nothing when he kissed me on my cheek, still nothing when his lips met my mouth. I didn't know that that was the starting of the end of my childhood, and the beginning of a long, hellish path to adulthood. *Sexual Abuse*
1. Chapter 1

I was in fourth grade when It first happened.

I was huddled together in my soft green blanket, protecting me from the cold night air. I'm guessing someone must have left a window open that night. It was freezing inside! I remember hugging my thermos of coffee close to my body. That is why I woke up after all, coffee.

The night would still be considered young. If I hadn't been nine years old, I probably would have been out doing something with Craig or Clyde. But I was. Eleven o' clock was late to any nine year old. But I had a sudden craving, a need for a cup of coffee.

While some might think its unhealthy for a fourth grader to drink coffee, my parents didn't. Neither did I. Never once had it crossed my mind that my paranoia, my nervous breakdowns and my jitteryness was caused by the constant intake of caffeine. What fourth grader knows that? What nine year old actually cares? Not many. Not me. And apparently, not my parents.

They were the ones providing it, ignoring the fact that there son just might be reaching the verge of insanity. It obviously wasn't caused by the ADD I supposedly had, either.

But I didn't know this then. Didn't care. I stilled loved my daddy, still held mommies hand. Still thought they were in love with each other. Still thought we were a normal family.

So of course I didn't know why mommy was throwing the fine china across the room. And of course I didn't understand why my dad, my loving father, the guy I used to look up to, was screaming obscenities. Awful, hurtful words he told me to never use.

Did daddy do something wrong? I wondered. What if he got into a fight? What if he murdered someone? Was daddy in more trouble than having plates thrown at him can pay for?

No.

Not the guy I looked up to. This was too much pressure. As most things for me are.

"You can't keep doing this Richard!" Mom yelled. Lifting her arm, prepared to throw another plate. Mom never called dad by his first name. _Ever_. Or at least in my company, they used loving pet names. Such as sweetie, or honey. I knew something had to be wrong.

Dad walked closer to mom, grabbing her wrist. It looked painful- what was going on?

"I can do what I want, women!" and thats when I knew this wasn't my dad. Something about him was just all wrong. I watched as he pulled back his hand, watched as my mom tried to pull away, watched as his hand came down, hard across her face.

I then realized I had dropped my thermos. A warm puddle of coffee lay below my feet, turning my socks a lightish brown color.

Thats when I screamed out and blew my cover. Tears fell like rain. Confusion, anger, I was also scared.

Maybe I did something wrong.

Maybe thats why mommy and daddy were fighting. Was it because I kept asking them to buy me new underwear? It wasn't my fault! The stupid underpants gnomes always comes and takes them!

But whatever the reason, I still stood there. Bawling and tugging at my somewhat longish, messy blond hair.

My dad looked towards my direction, his hand slowly falling to his side.

My mom turned her to me, while she lay on the floor. I could tell she was crying, to.

"Tweek..." he walked over to me, grabbed on to my arm.

He then looked over to my mom, a look of pure disgust etched across his face. My crying had died down a little, I was lightly sniffling at the sight of my mom, broken and lying on the floor, almost as if she was lying in repose.

"Richard, what are you doing?" She asked, reaching her hand out to me. As if telling me to grab onto it.

When I think of that now, when I look back at my mom like that, I think I should have pushed my dad away, ran to her side.

I should have, and I would have, if my dads grip on my arm wasn't so strong.

He turned, walking toward the front door, dragging me with him.

Where were we going? I didn't know then. But I knew it wasn't to a happy place.

"Ack! Dad! Where are we going?" the sound of heavy footsteps came to a halt.

"We're leaving-" He paused.

"Do you hear that Lauren? I'm leaving..."

Lauren,my mom let out a cry.

"Richard, you can't..."

"I'm leaving, taking my son with me, to."

–

Leaving where? I didn't know. But that night we sat slept in the car. Parked in the parking lot of 7-Eleven.

I never go to sleep. Ever. I have too many things to think and worry about. So when my daddy started crying, I tried to comfort him. Like good boys do.

He hugged me, pulled me into an embrace. I remember him running his hands through my hair.

"You're so much like your mom when I first met her..." He said, crying into my shoulder. I started crying a little, to. I didn't like seeing my dad like this. I didn't want to see him cry.

"Daddy loves you..." He whispered.

I looked up at him. Of course I thought he meant it in a loving, parental way. And I thought nothing when he kissed me on my cheek, still nothing when his lips met my mouth.

Hes my dad, they can kiss you, right?

I didn't know that that was the starting of the end of my childhood, and the beginning of a long, hellish path to adulthood.

–

._.

wth is wrong with me? Really,

I just pulled this out of my ass. But I do have more than the first chapter done. I want to see if I can actually finish this. I **hope** to finish it. I have confidence in this one. And just note: I've never written an abuse story, never thought I would. I especially never thought I'd write one about sexual abuse, but I guess there is a first time for everything, neh?

But yes, I know Tweek's father may be a little out of character, alright? Just deal with it. I also remember his name being Richard, I could be wrong though.

Reviews make me extremely happy.


	2. Chapter 2

It was sixth grade though, that I knew my dad wanted to show me a little more than parental love.

Dad and I had moved out on our own. Two years had been enough time to go through a divorce.

The place we lived in was a nice little apartment. With a living room and one bedroom, one that my dad and I shared. Still naive, I hadn't thought anything of it. I didn't mind sharing a room with daddy. I had my separate sleeping space, a couch, while he had his. A twin sized bed. I would have gotten a twin size to- if we had the money. And the space.

But we didn't. And that was fine at the time.

It had its pros- like how sometimes daddy would let me sleep in his bed, since there was usually enough room. Being that I was very small for a twelve year old. He'd pull me close to him. And talk about how much I was like my mom.

I always thought that was a good thing. That I reminded daddy of mommy.

I missed her a lot. But daddy wouldn't let me call her.

"That women is a dirty slut. Like hell I'd let you talk to her."

I didn't know what that meant either. But I knew it wasn't very nice. Since my friend Craig had called Stan Marsh's girl friend Wendy a slut, multiple times. Being that he doesn't like her all that much, I assumed it was offensive, and that daddy was still mad at mom for some reason.

But lets get back to the story.

I had invited a few friends over for the night. Craig Tucker, my best friend, the one who could make me smile at the stupidest things, and flip me off without having me freak out. Clyde Donovan, a friend of Craig, and I suppose- a good friend of mine. He was addicted to porn, and the Internet. Of course I didn't know what porn was at the time though. Token Black, who was the only sensible one in our group. He was a good friend to, and knew how to sing. I was proud to sit next to him in chorus. And then there was the one I detested, the one I absolutely loathed. Thomas. It wasn't because of his illness. Not because of the turrets. I was never a biased person, I didn't care about things like that.

"Stupid Fuck! Can I have some soda? Shit!"

"Hes sooo coool..." cooed Craig.

And thats why.

I didn't know it was jealousy. Just shrugged it off and said it was because the yelling made my ears hurt.

Although I knew that wasn't true. And I knew that would be somewhat hypocritical- mainly because I have random outburst at times- I just let it go. I tried to be a friend to Thomas.

But he was more of an enemy.

"Ack! Sure Thomas." I said, pointing to where the kitchen in my apartment was. My eyes glaring at his back as he got up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge in search of a can of soda. I clutched my thermos of coffee in my hands, grip growing tighter.

"Tweek, chill dude. If you hold that thing any tighter, it will explode." Token said as he looked up from his science homework. Just like Token to do homework at a sleepover.

What is he going to do next, sleep? No one sleeps at sleepovers.

But I nodded.

"Oh god! I don't want it to explode on me! Then I'll get burned, and I'll have to go to the hospital and- oh Jesus! Its way too much pressure!" I screamed, tugging at my hair. Token just laughed, along with Craig and Clyde.

"If it explodes, I'll take you to the hospital, Tweekers." Said Craig. Oh god, I used to love that nickname. The one he gave me in 2nd grade. In the present, he no longer calls me that. Or any cute nicknames we might have given each other.

But this isn't the present. This is the past.

"Oh Jesus!" I responded. Twitching, tugging at my shirt this time.

At this point, Thomas was back, chugging down a can of Doctor Pepper. I stared in disgust, but then turned away to look at the front door that opened.

I hadn't told my dad about the sleepover. But assumed he wouldn't mind.

"Tweek, who are these people?" dad asked, bag of groceries in both of his hands.

I put on a smile, happy to see my dad was home.

"Ack! Dad! These are my -Nhg!- Friend from school!" I actually have hung out with everyone outside of school, we all went to each others house. But never to mine. I felt bad.

He cocked he head to the side, looked at me, and nodded.

"Just don't make a lot of noise, alright? I'll be working on making a new type of coffee." and with that, he walked into the kitchen, put the bag of groceries on the counter, and went to our bedroom.

–

The night was long. Filled with soda, cheesy poofs, I makeover on Clyde's part (where we found the makeup to give our friend a makeover... was beyond me.), video games, gossip and eventually, sleeping.

Everyone was sprawled across the living room floor. Clyde took custody of the couch, Token lay on his side, Craig lay in a ball, while Thomas took most of the covers. Me, I was still awake. Watching some very noneducational show about a monkey.

I reached around for a remote, and when I found it, I dropped it in shock at my dads sudden speaking.

"Son, can I talk for you a moment?" I looked up, to where my dad was standing. He stood in his flannel pajamas, at the doorway of our bedroom. I slowly got up, walked to where he was standing, and followed him as he entered our room, locked the door.

"Please do not invite your friends over again." I blinked, twitched, and tugged at the hem of my shirt.

Did he not like my friends. I looked up at him again.

"Ack! Why?" I asked tilting my head in curiosity.

He looked mad. And I didn't know why. He grabbed onto my arms, tight, his nails digging into my skin. It hurt. But why? This is my dad, he never hurt me before.

"Because I said so young man. Is that clear?" it was said harshly, sternly. I knew he meant it. I didn't want to know what he'd do if I said no.

"Oh god! Crystal clear!" I bit down on my lower lip. My arms where hurting, and his grip lessoned as he pulled me into an embrace. Running his hands through my hair. I felt his lips press against my neck.

"Good... your daddies little angel. Just like your mom. Your all mine. All daddies. You won't leave me..." he said, softly, in a whisper. Only one with good hearing would have heard it.

But I heard it. It made me feel uneasy.

"Daddy..." I started, he then looked at me. With such emotion in his eyes that I, for the second time in my life, was scared of my father.

He grabbed my face, pulled me into a kiss. One I've never experienced before. But it was my dad, so it had to be alright.

His hands landed on my belt loop. Tugging my pants down. He stopped for a second though.

"Tweek, what I'm about to do, you can tell nobody about." he looked at me, a serious expression on his face. I nodded.

"They'll say I can't love you. You'll be taken away from me. Far away."

Far away? I would never want to be taken far away, ever.

"Okay daddy."

And that night, I felt like I lost something inside of me. Something precious. As My dad continued doing this, I grew numb, a little colder each day.

It wasn't until I took sexual education, and learned about sexual harassment that I realized why.

–

.__.

I'm going to hell, I swear. And honestly, I like Thomas. I have no reason to hate him. Hes adorable. I just don't like Craig/Thomas or Creekomas. I only support one pairing with Thomas, in all honesty. And thats Kyle/Thomas. But its not popular at all. Never once had I seen a fanfiction, fanart or mention of it at all come up. So I try to keep that little fandom to myself. Anyways. This chapter wasn't great. I tried though.

Leave reviews, they make me happy :D

Oh and before I forget: HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13th BITCHES!


	3. Chapter 3

"Can we go to the mall after school, Craig?" he stared up with those big, auburn eyes. The ones I couldn't ever find a way to say no to.

Ninth grade has come. Innocence was something he didn't possessed. He shivered, I put an arm over his shoulder, taking a drag from my cigarette.

We're sitting outside the back of the school. Escaping from the cafeteria. Apparently some asshole thought it would be funny to start a food fight.

"Sure."

Apathetic. Uncaring. Cold.

Thats what I was. Or atleast, what I appeared to be. I knew what was going down. I just didn't understand why anyone else didn't. That innocence he appears to have? Its as real as my apathy.

And that was as real as splenda.

We were both fakers, liars. But only I knew about it.

But I was an asshole. He wasn't. He was a liar for a reason. I was just an asshole.

"Gah! Thanks." he looks up at me, smiles that fake smile that I hate so much. I hate him. This isn't the boy I fell in love with in fifth grade.

Who was that boy? That boy was Tweek Tweak.

Normal 10 year olds don't fall in love. Especially not with another boy. But I did. I knew from the moment he got up on stage, took that tacky elementary school diploma that I was in deep.

"Whatever" I drop the unfinished cigarette on the concrete below me, stomping it out with my foot. He reaches his hand into my back pocket, opening the top to my cigarettes pack and taking one for his own.

It was funny.

He was trying to put up the good kid act, but he had no problem smoking up my whole pack. Right infront of me. Of course I was the only one who knew about his little addiction. If daddy were to find out, he'd get his cute little ass beaten.

As he lights up, he begins to cough. And at that moment, I begin to forget my hatred for the liar, the faker. And remember that somewhere inside that liar is that boy I grew up with. My hand reaches out, moves his long, blond bangs away from his eyes. It wasn't his fault.

"Are you catching another cold?" Hes pale. It looks like he lost more weight.

Its not just his father. Something else is wrong. Hes sick. I know it.

"Gah! Yeah, but I'll be fine man. I still have some cough medicine and stuff."

I let out a sigh, nodding. I want all of this to stop. I want to help.

But what could I possibly do?

I look at my watch. Lunch is almost over.

–

Now, the story is really going to start going. Next chapter.... Will be more school in Tweek's point of veiw

I want it to be longer, I'm kind of excited to be writing this again. Haha.

AND I'M CHANGING THE NAME OF THIS SOON!

Just to let you guys know


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